More Than Friends
by RogueAlly
Summary: Would two people who are "just friends" act like this? Sequel to "Bitter Disappointments" W/R
1. Chapter 1

It was going to be a dangerous mission, just the kind she liked. He could see the gleam in her eyes as Scott and Ororo went over the basic plan. She practically licked her lips in anticipation, and it took all of his self-control not to let out the growl building in his throat. The rest of the X-Team members in the room might be used to his temper, but there was no need to stir up speculation by doing anything more than glaring around the room, meeting each pair of eyes, including the chocolate brown ones widening with excitement far greater than anyone else's.

Once Scott finished laying the groundwork for the mission, Logan allowed himself to speak up in his capacity as combat trainer. "Just because this is an extraction doesn't mean we need any damn heroics. Getting yourselves injured or killed will not help the team, no matter what you think. Stick with the plan your lead gives you and keep your heads down. Remember that we're dealing with fanatics who are more than willing to capture, torture, and kill any mutant they can get their hands on," he told them grimly. Scott nodded, his lips tightening as if he was remembering other team-saving heroics that, while necessary, had cost him the woman he loved.

Little good Logan's speech did with one particular listener, however. He could see his words slide off of her as Scott said, "All right. Rogue and Shadowcat, you two are with Storm. It will be your job to get this family to safety while the rest of us provide cover in and out of the facility. We have one hour before we leave."

With that the group broke up, most heading to change into their uniforms. Logan waited by the door for his quarry and pulled her aside as all the others filed out.

"Rogue, I need a minute," he allowed the growl to enter his voice even more. She frowned at him but stayed behind as her friends Kitty and Jubilee rolled their eyes and continued on without her.

"What's wrong, Logan?" Rogue asked once they were alone.

"I've noticed what you're doing, Marie. Always taking the worst risks, the most chances. I want you to cut it out," Logan told her, glaring down into her eyes as they darkened with anger.

"You mean you want me to let down the team, Logan? You know as well as I that only Storm is capable of doing a lot of what can do! Do you want me to leave it all up to her and go hide in my room like a fucking coward?!" Rogue shouted the last as she stepped closer to him, matching him glare for glare.

"I don't want you to be a coward, Marie, but dammit, you just don't pay attention to what you're doing half the time, the danger you're putting yourself into! Do you think you're fucking invincible?" Logan yelled back.

Rogue threw her hands up in the air. "Yes, Logan, I do! Wasn't that why Carol had me drain her? She sure as hell didn't do it so that I could waste her gift to me! I may not be totally invincible, but doesn't invulnerable skin count for something these days?!"

"That's beside the point. Don't you remember how Carol died, Marie? Your internal organs can be crushed just as well as anyone else's. So nothing can pierce your skin—you still bruise! I've seen it! Don't you give a damn what you're doing to your friends?" Logan asked her, grabbing her arm.

Rogue's teeth ground together, the irritation and anger wafting off of her skin in waves that only his sensitive nose could detect. "Of course I remember what happened to Carol! I was there, wasn't I? It didn't occur to me that you would think I was doing more than I knew I could handle! I'm an adult now, Logan, not a child! You could try trusting me to know my limits, just like you know yours!" she shot back at him before yanking her arm out of his grasp, pushing past and stalking out the door. He knew that even at that moment she reflexively pulled most of her strength so that he wouldn't go crashing through a wall or something.

Logan watched her leave, frustration almost radiating from him. She would have taken whatever he might have said after that the wrong way, he knew. He had promised years ago to protect her, dammit, and so far he'd made a pretty bad showing in that department. Letting her make her own mistakes was definitely not the way to keep her alive, not with her track record. Reluctantly he left the briefing room, slamming the door behind him. The other men in the locker room gave him a wide berth as he banged around, tossing his jeans, boots and shirts into a locker before pulling on the damn leather uniform and stomping back out again.


	2. Chapter 2

The team was relatively quiet as they gathered by the Blackbird and climbed inside. Rogue took her usual seat next to Jubilee, with Kitty and Bobby across the row. Jubilee took advantage of the rustling of settling harnesses to lean over and whisper to Rogue, "So, Roguey, did the big bad Wolverine eat you alive?"

Rogue gave her friend credit for keeping her curiosity to herself in the locker room, but she wished Jubilee could have kept her mouth shut until after the mission. However, the sight of Logan boarding the Blackbird, last as always, seemed to spark the irritation she had felt for him earlier, and his glare when he saw her looking in his direction fanned the flame higher. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and whispered back with a small smirk, "He got a bite taken out of him instead. No one has the right to tell me how to live my life!"

Rogue knew Logan must have heard her whisper, but since she immediately turned to look out the window, she didn't see his reaction as he passed. Jubilee's low whistle and tension beside her for a moment told her it probably hadn't been pretty. That was fine with her. That man seemed to think he could run her life just because she had turned to him a few times during moments of weakness, but Rogue thought it was time for him to learn that she was more than capable of standing on her own two feet a majority of the time. She certainly didn't need a fucking babysitter!

The flight was a quick one by mission standards. Their target was a small farm on the outskirts of Pennsylvania where a group of Friends of Humanity fanatics were holding a young mutant couple and their two children. This particular group had advertised in circles where the X-Men's doctor, Henry McCoy, still had informants that they had a family of mutants available for sale to the highest bidder. Since these circles also included members of the team who had invented the so-called mutant "cure"—the one that was only administered to the weak while the government kept the strong mutants for experimental purposes—knowing that there might be potential buyers had spurred the X-Men into swift action. A quick reconnaissance mission by a smaller team had concluded that there were only six FOH members on site at any one time. The Professor and Scott had decided that an extraction mission would be the best option, and so the team had been alerted. Now, less than twenty-four hours after the first report, they were on their way.

Rogue kept her gaze on the night sky beyond the window the entire time they were in the air. She didn't want to risk meeting Logan's glare and becoming angry all over again. She wanted to focus on her job, which would be rescuing one of the two children. Nothing, not even a damned aggravating, stubborn man, was going to keep her from completing her mission.


	3. Chapter 3

Apparently, that included explosions, Rogue thought ironically as she flew through the first one, then another, and finally a third while trying to make her way across the small battlefield to the dilapidated barn beyond. Behind her she felt sprays from Storm's cooling rains putting out the fires started by the fireballs, which meant that she and Kitty, whom Storm was using wind to carry, were following closely but not so closely that they had been injured. Rogue ignored the fighting as best she could, given that her friends were the ones down there. She did glimpse Logan taking on two fighters at once, which was reassuring. If anyone could handle this, he could.

Rogue reached the barn and landed in front of the open doors. Deciding that it would be easier for her to go in first and attract any potential bullets, Rogue ran through the doors. The stall walls had long since fallen down, and so she was able to see clearly that the only people in the barn were the seven—seven!—huddled forms in a metal cage, four of whom were adults with very obvious mutations. Rogue called the all-clear to Storm and Kitty and approached the cage with caution. Thankfully there were no traps in the floor. Rogue reasoned that any traps would be on the cage itself.

She was right. Rogue gripped the rusty metal bars of the cage to bend them as Storm and Kitty ran into the barn. Crackling blue electricity flashed over her hands and up her arms as she made quick work of the cage. _Add electrical burns to the singes to my uniform and hair_, some abstract part of Rogue's mind suggested drily.

"Rogue! Are you all right?" Kitty asked as she ran up to her.

Rogue just smiled grimly. "I'm fine, but we have two more to get out of here. I'll take the children and their mother if you two will get the men," she said, gesturing to the dazed former captives.

Storm nodded and turned to the new mutants. "We need to get you out of here quickly. Ma'am, please follow Rogue here with your children. We will be following close behind," she instructed them gently but firmly.

The woman and her children obediently went with Rogue to the barn door. They peered out a little fearfully at the battle still raging, so Rogue laid a reassuring, glove-covered hand on the woman's arm. The other mutant was actually smaller than her, and her sons appeared to have inherited that her petite frame, which had given Rogue cause to believe that she would easily be able to carry them the short distance to the jet.

Rogue pulled her black gossamer silk hood, specially made for situations such as this, out of the collar of her uniform and slipped it over her head, covering the skin of her face and neck to avoid inadvertent contact. Then she turned to the woman and said, "Some of my abilities are strength and flight. I am going to fly you and your sons to safety. Please hold on as tightly as possible."

Without giving them time to think about this, Rogue scooped up the children in one arm and wrapped her other arm around their mother's waist. As her feet left the ground, the mother remembered her instructions and threw her arms around Rogue's neck, prompting her children to cling to whatever parts of her arm and torso they could reach. The younger woman silently thanked Hank for the suggestion of the hood and the nagging he had done to convince her to add it as she felt the woman's firm, clammy skin press against the silk. She negotiated the air above the battlefield quickly but with a mind toward the more vulnerable state of her passengers. They landed safely at the Blackbird, and Rogue gestured for the other woman to take her children and board, giving them no other options. Then Rogue reached into a compartment on the outside of the jet by the hatch and pulled out a loaded pistol. After checking the safety she turned it off and took up a guard position beside the Blackbird.

As Kitty and Storm arrived with the three men, Rogue shouted to them over the noise of the battle, "Is it just me, or are there more than we thought there would be?" She gestured toward the fighting.

"Twelve," Storm replied, her features drawn from her efforts. "They must have changed shifts later than they did previously. Time to come in, Scott. We're done," she added into her earphone. The rest of the X-Men followed their leader, fighting their way through the remaining fanatics back to the jet. Only two of the enemy remained standing as the X-Men and former captives scrambled on board the Blackbird and the hatch closed. They fired their rifles futilely at the hull and were knocked over by the wind as Storm lifted the jet to safety. Scott took over flying from there while the rest, including the captives, found seats and harnessed themselves in.

Rogue sat quietly in her seat on the way home while Storm informed the newcomers who they were, why they had helped, and what would happen next. Rogue had noticed the black, cold look Logan had shot her as he went past on his way to his seat, and her stomach clenched painfully in anticipation of the argument she knew would inevitably come once they were home. Why was he, her best and oldest friend, suddenly so overly concerned? The question plagued her throughout the flight despite the rest of the team's elation at the successful completion of the mission and the refugee's similar joy. She couldn't help but notice that Logan was ominously silent as well.


	4. Chapter 4

Logan tried to catch Rogue's eyes as they left the Blackbird, but she managed to avoid him by offering to show the young family to some guest rooms where they could get some much needed rest. She didn't look at him once as she led them away, and it took all of Logan's willpower not to go barreling through the group at the bottom of the ramp to catch her and drag her away.

During the battle he had taken out some of the rage he felt watching Rogue fly through large explosions on his opponents. When he saw her entre that barn alone he sliced off the gun hand of the man facing hi m and ran forward only to be stopped by the enemy behind him bravely—and stupidly—jumping on his back. Taking care of that idiot had helped him regain some control. Watching Storm and Kitty follow Rogue into the bar fairly calmly had helped, too. The fact remained, though, that she had deliberately ignored his warning to be more careful.

Knowing that Rogue would probably take as much time getting the family settled in as she could, Logan made up an excuse to stay behind with the Blackbird by saying he had heard a noise in the engine and wanted to check it out. That almost backfired when Scott offered to help, but he shook his head and waved the other man on, saying that it was probably just a lose bolt or something. His teammates headed off to take care of the other refugees or to shower and change. Logan guessed the Scott and Storm would spend the rest of the night closeted with the Professor and making sure the refugees were settled. The other women would probably hurry through their showers so that they could hit the hay.

Rogue, who could always shower in her own bathroom, would probably head back down to the sub-levels in an attempt to avoid him again. The showers would be unoccupied by that time, so she would have solitude and quiet to recover from the mission, something he knew for a fact she enjoyed because she had told him so once after one of her earliest missions. In fact, he was counting on her doing exactly that.


	5. Chapter 5

Rogue crept along the main hall of the school to the elevator that led to the lower levels. She knew everyone else was already in their rooms because she had heard them coming upstairs while she was busy helping the Burkes get comfortable in their guest suite. The children had been so exhausted that she had put her hood back on, explaining about her skin as she did so, and then carried them to their room while their parents, bone-tired themselves, followed. She left the hood on while tucking them in, which allowed her to kiss them on the forehead when she wished them sweet dreams. The hood stayed on for Mr. and Mrs. Burkes' sakes as she helped them into bed, too, and promised to arrange a big breakfast for them all in the morning.

Once Rogue was back in the now-quiet and dark hallway, she had realized that her black leather uniform and black hood would allow her to more easily slip down the stairs unnoticed. She figured that Logan was probably waiting in her room to yell at her, and she just wasn't ready for that yet.

So she entered the elevator with a sigh of relief and hit the button that would send it gliding down. The halls of the lower level were also dark, so Rogue felt safe pushing her hood off her face to rest on her hair. It kept the long brown and white strands off her face as well, a welcome help with her constantly annoying hair. She headed down the hall to the women's locker room. The place felt deserted so she walked quickly from one hall to the next, occasionally looking over her shoulder. Even the clinic lights were out; Dr. McCoy had obviously gone to bed when informed that neither the refugees nor the X-Men had any immediate medical needs.

Rogue pushed through the door to the locker room with yet another sigh and flipped on the light. She went over to a bench and dropped down on it, finally allowing herself to feel the terror of the night and the pain of the whiplash she had probably received from being too close to that first explosion. Closing her eyes, she let her head and shoulders droop forward and reached up to rub her neck, wincing a little at the pain. She stopped rubbing her neck and rubbed her eyes with her fingertips instead.

A large pair of hands wrapped around her neck from behind, fingers digging into the flesh of her collarbone. Rogue had only an instant to be startled and scared before the hands began where hers had left off, rubbing her sore neck and shoulders.

"What was that about being invulnerable earlier?" came the growl from behind.

Rogue didn't know how someone so angry could give such a good massage, but right then she didn't care. She let herself relax back into his hands, practically purring. "Muscle strain isn't going to kill me, Logan," she said. Maybe this fight wasn't going to be as bad as she thought.

Wrong. The hands on her neck tightened perceptibly. "So the thought of breaking bones doesn't scare you? I could strangle you, snap your neck right now, but that's not a big deal? You could be crushed, drowned, but those aren't problems?" Logan didn't start out shouting, but he was definitely getting there when she reached up and pried his hands loose before jumping up to face him.

"People break bones all the time. Increased strength, remember, Logan? My bones withstand more pressure, and that helps if some asshole tries to strangle me! It also helps me get away if something tries to crush me or drown me! I'm not exactly breakable anymore, Logan, so quit it with the macho stuff! You're not my father, and you're not my fucking brother, so in my book that gives you no right to treat me as if I'm glass!" Rogue shouted back.

"Dammit, Marie, you're wrong! True, you aren't my daughter or my sister, but you're my friend, and in _my_ book that sure as hell gives me a right to make sure you're as safe as I can make you in this fucked up world! I've lost too many friends not to. What good does your strength or your flying do if you get knocked unconscious? You'd better hope you're not wearing that hood and that the bastard hitting you gets your face and not your hair, or you could wind up just as dead as anyone else! And then what will I do?!" With every shout Logan took a step forward, and Rogue stepped back, until the last when she ended up pressed against the wall with Logan yelling right into her face. "When I think about the risks you're taking, I could just strangle you myself!" Logan finished, raising hands still encased in leather as if to suit actions to words.

Rogue raised her own hands from behind her back, hands now bare of gloves and lethal, to fend him off, although she wasn't really scared of Logan. Still, she had never seen him so angry and felt the precaution was more than worth it. She caught his wrists and held them, his hands inches from her neck. They stared at each other for several tense moments, blazing hazel eyes meeting shocked brown. Finally, Rogue lowered her eyes and hands and stepped into Logan's outstretched arms, wrapping her own around him and careful to keep the skin of her face away from his.

"I'm sorry, Logan. I wasn't thinking about it that way. It was just so strange, such a rush to suddenly be so strong. I…guess I got carried away," Rogue said, waiting tensely for his reaction.

Logan's arms closed around her like a vise, but a comforting one. She felt the tension run out of both of them. It was so odd, hugging Logan. Despite their growing friendship since her return with Carol's powers, they hadn't hugged after that first night in her room when he held her as she cried over death and disappointment. The hug felt wonderful, as if she were coming home all over again.

"God, Marie, when I got on that jet and smelled burned leather and hair…I knew it was you, and all I could think of was that you could have died and that you went into that barn alone…" Logan's chest rumbled with a growl when she jumped at that and then buried her face deeper into his shoulder. "Thought no one noticed that, huh? If I hadn't had an idiot hanging on my back at the time, I might have killed you myself. Don't ever do something so stupid again, Marie, or I swear I won't be responsible for the consequences," he said.

Rogue leaned back and looked up at him. "I promise to be more careful on missions, Logan. I swear. I don't want to make my friends unhappy," she said sincerely.

Their eyes met again, and for a second time they froze. Rogue was suddenly much more aware of the fact that they were pressed together chest to knee, and she could tell that he was, too. _Oh, my_, she thought, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks in a deep blush.

(Author's Note: There is another chapter between this part and the next. You can find it at WRFA under the author name Ally. It's too mature for this site, but if you're over 18 and like adult material, I think it's a good addition and makes some of the next parts make more sense. The chapters are numbered a bit differently there. You'll be looking for chapter 4.)


	6. Chapter 6

Rogue woke up slowly out of a surprisingly deep sleep. She stretched one sore limb after another, arched her back, and then flopped back into the cushioning mattress. It took a while for her sleep-fogged brain to register why she felt so completely relaxed, but then the memories of the previous night's events began playing through her mind. Her eyes popped open and blood rushed to her cheeks when she remembered the feel of Logan's hands and mouth on her body doing things she had once daydreamed of but eventually gave up on when her friendship with him blossomed.

Rogue stared up at the ceiling above her head, her eyes tracing the white plaster swirls while her mind raced as she considered her last words before leaving Logan in the locker room. In the bright light of day—well, all right, the cracks in the white blinds shading her room from the outside room showed a darkly overcast sky, so it wasn't all that bright out—their encounter and the challenge she had been given seemed less than wise. She valued Logan so much, relied on the friendship they had built; she was afraid to allow anything to continue that might interfere with that. At the same time, the fragment of Logan that resided in her mind growled at the notion that she would be able to persuade him to give up the hunt just as he'd finally come to his senses and gotten her scent. A lot of her scent, he amended wickedly.

The sense of enjoyment that Logan-in-her-head felt at the notion of pursuing and catching her was enough to send Rogue jumping out of bed. A mad scramble through her drawers produced a long-sleeved green T-shirt, black running shorts, and black leggings which she threw on. She pulled her hair into a messy pony-tail, crammed her feet into socks and sneakers, and then she trotted downstairs. Thankfully it was Saturday, and apparently it was early enough that not many students and none of the adults were stirring yet. Rogue didn't encounter anyone as she made her way outside to the track that circled the grounds of the school.

Her feet pounding on the ground as she broke into a full out run and the wind whipping past her calmed Rogue's mind slightly. She attempted to lose herself in the sensations, used them to distract herself and the voices in her head that were clamoring to gain her attention and offer advice or opinions on the situation. Her legs and arms pumping, she entered a wooded area that eventually thinned out to the trees that bordered the small lake at the western edge of the property. As she slowed to enjoy the sight, she became aware of the sound of heavy footsteps behind her. A quick glance over her shoulder informed Rogue that Logan was running not far behind her. She squelched an irrational desire to pick up her pace—actually, to sprint. First, Logan might take that as a challenge in either an innocent or not-so-innocent way. He was a better runner than she was despite the weight of his adamantium skeleton, so best not to provoke him either way. Rogue also didn't want to give him the idea that she was uncomfortable around him, even though she was a little bit unnerved to see him running after her on the heels of her internal debates. So she kept up her steady jog even as his longer stride at away at the distance between them.

"Mornin', darlin'," Logan said as he pulled forward next to her.

"Yeah, it is," Rogue huffed, rolling her eyes just as she always would when he tried to act like being awake early on the weekend was a good thing. Since both of them were usually awake thanks to shitty sleep and nightmares, Rogue usually hated pretending that she liked it. She suspected that Logan wasn't even pretending, which only made her grumpier.

"Sleep well?" Logan's question blindsided her, and then he picked up his pace before she could reply.

Rogue stared after him, her cheeks bright red for the second time that morning. She hadn't expected even such an indirect reference to their late night activities, although since this was Logan she wasn't sure why she ever thought he wouldn't mention it. Her brain sputtered uselessly for a few seconds. Knowing that her chance was dwindling with every step he ran, she called out a retort. "Like a baby, sugar!"

A small kernel of satisfaction glowed within her, despite her best efforts, because it was the truth. Last night had been the best sleep she had gotten in what felt like ages. Whether she liked it or not, that satisfaction grew when Logan shouted back, "Me, too!"


	7. Chapter 7

Logan was glad he had decided to go for a run instead of a Danger Room session that morning. While beating up some realistic holograms could normally slake the needs of his feral side, the sight of Rogue blushing and flustered appealed to both the human and feral in him. Then she came back with that little bit of sass and he almost grinned even as he teased her back. He never grinned.

He knew Rogue, maybe better than she thought. No matter how much she gave in to an impulse, no matter how much she wanted what had happened between them, once she had a chance to actually think he was pretty sure she would start to overthink, overanalyze, maybe doubt that they should continue along the same vein. Logan knew he would have to keep her off balance a little if he wanted her—and he definitely did. Unlike Rogue, he rarely regretted or second-guessed his instincts, and his instincts were screaming at him to claim her.

Logan finished his run in a good mood and went to his room to shower. Twenty minutes later, dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, he made his way to the kitchen, fixed a cup of coffee, and settled at one of the comfortable wooden tables scattered around the large informal room to wait. Eventually his patience paid off when he heard Rogue's distinctive footsteps approaching. Funny, he hadn't even noticed that he'd memorized the pattern, but he was confident it was her.

Rogue proved his subconscious correct when she appeared in the doorway, wet hair braided back and a slightly hunted look in her eyes. Logan was sure she didn't see him right away where he was sitting, half-hidden by shadows. If she had, she might not have walked so calmly over to the refrigerator. She opened the door and bent down to rummage through the fruit drawer. From his vantage point, Logan was able to get a good long look at the way her jeans hugged her ass, a tantalizing inch of skin showing where her black shirt road up slightly. He almost growled in disappointment when she straightened and shut the door; he was just barely able to hold it in check.

Logan knew she saw him when she turned around because she froze with a green apple raised partway to her mouth, which hung slightly open for a moment before she snapped it shut. He raised his eyes slowly from her hips up the lush curve of her breasts—and what pretty color of lace was she wearing under her shirt, he wondered—and finally met her eyes. Hazel locked on dark brown, he smiled and gestured to the empty seat next to him. She took a deep breath, probably meant to be bracing but it drew his attention back to her chest, and then she joined him at the table, sitting gingerly on the edge of the seat he had indicated.

"Touch me," he said when it looked like she was about to say something, reaching out and laying his hand, palm up, on the table in front of her.

Rogue stared first at his hand and then into his eyes as if he was crazy. Maybe he was, but this was probably the easiest way to push her into practicing her control that he could think of. Since last night her control was a very important concern for him, so Logan kept his hand stretched out to her. After a few moments she set down her apple and pulled off one black glove, one finger at a time. He monitored her breathing, heard how the rhythm slowed as she prepared herself, and gave her a reassuring look. Her bare hand hovered over his; her fingertips almost brushed his skin several times before she settled her hand on top of his.

When Rogue's skin touched his, for the first time he was able to concentrate only on that sensation. There was no fear, for him—been there, done that—or her, no panic, no desperation. As her fingers rested on his skin for one second, ten, twenty, the only thing he felt was an incredible sense of intimacy mixed with an understandable stab of lust, all fueled by her soft, smooth skin. He desperately wanted to know if the rest of her felt like this, but just when he was about to close his fingers around hers and draw her closer, not even half a minute after she started touching him, he felt the beginning of her mutation's pull. Rogue jerked her hand away, but her mutation hadn't packed its usual whammy and all he felt was a little lightheadedness.

While Rogue sat staring at her bare hand, fingers curled in defensively, Logan tried to figure out from her expression what she was thinking. Usually she was an open book, at least to him, but now he just couldn't figure it out. He could only leave his hand on the table and look at her, willing her to meet his eyes again.


End file.
